


Kaine? Keith.

by EdrickSnowHuh



Series: Tuqburni [4]
Category: Rookie Blue
Genre: F/F, More trash, So many K's he's practically a Kardashian, Tuqburni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4177083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdrickSnowHuh/pseuds/EdrickSnowHuh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much as Gail loves bars, sometimes the clientele just can't catch a hint.<br/>Or<br/>Holly is Gail's Hail Mary pass</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kaine? Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> So after I post this, I'm planning to write another Clexa one shot, then one for here before another Bechloe. Hit me up if you have any prompts you'd like to see!

Okay, Deep breaths. I'm Gail motherfucking Peck, I have got my shit under control.

Or not.

Hence why I am stood at a bar in Toronto with Nash and McNally talking my ear off either side of me. I mean, I know they're trying to keep me busy after another Peck family dinner went south, but honestly? I don't really fancy being in chocked bar, even on country music night. 

I call the bartender over and order a few more shots, Traci and Andy getting caught up in the atmosphere and going off to dance.  
As I'm throwing back the last of the tequila I ordered, someone brushes my arm with their fingertips and moves in next to me.

"Impressive.." He says with a quirk of his eyebrow. "I'm Kaine. Is your name as beautiful as you?" He's attempting to be smooth, with a grin that I can tell has dropped girls at the sight of it.   
I fail to introduce myself, not bothering turning to face him. We're pressed fairly closely since the bar area is packed, but he's still standing a little too near to me. I might not be the oldest hand at the whole bar pick up thing, but I'm pretty sure not bothering to look at someone is a pretty sure sign you're not interested. Douche McGee seems just a little too obtuse to realise.  

"You here with anyone special then, blondie?" He tries.

"Not interested." I say, keeping it short and to the point. He's not easily dissuaded though, and continues to babble on while I pay absolutely no attention. From the corner of my eye, I see the bartender flipping bottles at the other end of the bar, and I occupy myself by trying to trace the movement. She makes a few drinks with some flashy moves, and it's enough to distract me for a short while. 

Kyle is still rambling on about how hot he thinks I am, and I've had enough. I finally look at him square on, and I can feel the bitch glare I'm giving him.

"Look, Kevin-"

"Kaine."

"Keith. I am not interested in what you have to say. I will not be going home with you tonight, nor any other night."

He seems kind of stunned, like this has come out of nowhere. A guy like this probably won't be used to a girl turning him down, but there is absolutely no way I would be interested in a), such a sleazy ball of greasepaint, b) a self obsessed pick up artist, c), and this is the real kicker, a dude.  
 Surprise flashes across his face, followed by confusion, and finally indignation settles in his features. 

"Look here, lady. I'm by far the best offer you're gonna get tonight, and frankly I'm punching below my weight." He rants, getting more animated by the second. He is looking like he's about to blow up, when I feel a strong pair of hands come to rest around my waist. 

"Hey babe." A soft, low, and decidedly feminine voice purrs in my ear. Whoever she is, she squeezes her right palm tightly over my hipbone once, a firm 'Just go with it' gesture. (Honestly, to get away from this guy I'd go along with telling the whole bar I have herpes.)

"Hey." I grin, leaning back into the embrace. I can feel that she's slightly taller than I am, and what feels like the frame of a pair of glasses presses lightly against my temple. I turn my head a little further in to her body, and watch Kaine's face as whoever she is lays a light kiss to my hairline. His brow contorts, and I see realisation begin to sink in.

"You're...You're a lesbian?" He splutters, eyes darting between me and the woman who's arms I'm wrapped in, looking like he's about to drop his drink at the thought that all his 'efforts' were a waste.  
"A damn good one." My pseudo-girlfriend laughs, pulling my hips even further back into her own. I can't help but feel the way her warm body presses in to mine, full breasts at my shoulder blades, so I cover my small shudder by moving my hand to rest over hers. 

"I did tell you I wasn't interested." I say, with a shrug and a smirk.   
He continues to fluster for a few seconds more, until the woman asks if there's a problem. He leaves pretty soon after that, and now the body behind me is gone, taking a step back and then moving in front of me as I come face to face with who, essentially, has just saved my night from becoming a total calamity. 

And fuck me sideways if she's not beautiful. 

"Hi." She says with a little lopsided grin, her warm brown eyes meeting mine. She holds out her hand like an old British gentleman, and introduces herself.

"Holly Stewart."

"Gail Peck, and thank you so much." I reply, taking her outstretched palm. I don't know what it is about this woman, but her skin seems to set me on fire. She doesn't immediately let go, and neither do I. It takes a few heartbeats until we even break eye contact, the bartender appearing and disturbing the moment. 

"What are you drinking, ladies?" She asks, and Holly turns to me with that cheeky grin right back in place. She wears it well.

"What's your poison, Gail?"

I order a whiskey sour like usual, a little surprised when Holly indicates to repeat the order. She pays for the drinks before I can move to stop her, and hands my glass to me with a wink.

"Didn't take you for a woman that drinks whiskey." I say, ignoring the sudden rush of colour up along my neck in favour of leaning back on my elbows against the bar top.

"Well, I'm usually not," She says dryly, then leans slowly closer to whisper against the skin of my ear. Her breath is only warm, but it burns in a tingle against my flesh.

"But, if you'll allow me to flirt with you outrageously for a minute, I know my alcohol, and I happen to know that anything but joining you in a whiskey sour would taste horrendous when I kiss you later."

She pulls away, and her laugh is light, face full of mischief as she bites her bottom lip. Her smile is infectious, even as she steals the breath from my windpipe. 

"C'mon, beautiful. I'm in the mood to go dancing."

 

\------ --------------

 

Fast forward five years, and I'm still dancing with her. Granted, the setting is a little different.   
There are no sweaty bodies pressing in on us, the floor is pristine and the drink I have in my hand is champagne.  
Other things aren't the same either, she's not wearing leather, I'm not wearing red.

She looks beautiful in white.   
She tells me I do too. 


End file.
